Freedom (The Sorcerers' Scourge Book 4)

by Michael Arches

  “Excellent,” I said. “How do I make it grow back?”

  “Holarthon, elbo restaure,” he said.

  When I’d practiced each a few times, Ian held up his hand. “That’s enough for tonight. I think you’re ready for your first outing to take on one of the sorcerers hiding in our region. Lee will show you the ropes tomorrow, but there’s one point I want to emphasize.”

  I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Finally, I said, “I want to get this right, too.”

  “We will carefully check out each target to make sure you can take him, or her, but no investigation is perfect. Before you offer your challenge, you need to confirm the sorcerer’s power. You’ll have to get close enough to shake his hand or otherwise touch him.”

  After I’d asserted a challenge, I had to beat the prick or I’d lose by default. He could run away, but I couldn’t. “Got it,” I said. “Double-check before risking slavery again.”

  “Along those same lines,” Ian said with a stern look, “if you can’t sense his aura by touching him, that’s an immediate signal to abort. Run like hell. Only the most powerful sorcerers can hide their power from a touch.”

  Gill had managed that somehow, and he was the only witch I’d met who could. Not even the Dark Prince was strong enough to hide entirely. “Yes, my liege.”

  -o-o-o-

  Thursday, February 11th

  MY STOMACH HAD churned overnight. This was the real deal—I’d be hunting sorcerers and hopefully taking their power. That was the best way for me to get stronger.

  Right after our morning run, I met in a conference room inside Ian’s office suite with Lee and two middle-aged Asian guys. The room’s walls here were decorated with more pictures from the Rocky Mountains. The prince had a real thing for mountains, and he’d even threatened to take me to them in the spring.

  Lee introduced me to the men, who looked like identical twins. They were short and thin, with neatly groomed salt and pepper hair. The only way I could tell them apart was that Tran Anh Danh wore a wispy beard, and Tran Anh Thao didn’t.

  “Both of these guys were detectives for LAPD for over a decade before getting sick of LA,” Lee said. “They brought their families up here and started their own private eye firm in Monterey,”

  “Seabreeze has been an excellent client,” Danh said. He had a Vietnamese accent, but it was hardly noticeable. “We are very pleased to meet the clan’s newest member.”

  “Both have powers,” Lee said, “but their magic is very different than ours. They practice an ancient Asian form of magic. Basically, they become ghosts, can blend into any background. As long as they stay still, they’re invisible. Even when they move, all you can see are dust motes swirling in the air. They can even manage to touch sorcerers without being noticed.”

  That explained how Ian could be so sure that I’d beat the sorcerers they matched me against. That was a comfort, for damned sure. I was all for gaining power through challenge fights, but there was always the risk of being enslaved again.

  “Terrific,” I replied. “How do you guys find the sorcerers?”

  “Our extended family is currently investigating in Santa Cruz,” Thao said. We mix in the community, searching for dark magical auras or the echoes from recent dark spells.”

  “When we find a sorcerer, we determine whether he lives in Ian’s region or is simply passing through,” Dahn said. “We only bother to investigate resident sorcerers. After we’ve measured their power, we consult with Lee to find the right Garda member to eliminate the dark menace.”

  It sounded pretty straightforward—find and destroy—like hunting rabid skunks. “Great. What do you need from me?”

  “Nothing, really,” Thao said. “As we drive you to a targets residence, we will tell you about the individual. You approach the target, looking as nonthreatening as possible, and after you confirm his strength, you attack.”

  A possible problem came to mind. “What if he chooses not to engage?”

  “Ian runs into that problem now,” Lee said, “and he often has to run down a reluctant opponent. You being a woman, I doubt you’ll have the problem. Sorcerers are egotistical to begin with, and damn few of them think a woman can beat them.”

  If one of my victims took off during the ten second freeze, I’d simply have to run them down, which maybe was why the prince was nuts for running. “Okay, that’s all my questions for now. I’m sure I’ll have more later. Who’s the target?”

  Lee looked at the twins.

  Thao said, “We’ve found a sorcerer hiding in Santa Cruz you should be able to defeat. Meet me in the staff parking lot in thirty minutes, and I’ll take you to him.”

  -o-o-o-

  FINALLY, I WAS ready to go on the warpath. My stomach was queasy because I could be a slave again by lunchtime. But Dahn and Thao seemed to know what they were doing.

  Right on time, I met Thao in the parking lot. He drove up in a black SUV with tinted windows.

  When he rolled down his window, I asked “Isn’t your rig a bit conspicuous?”

  He shook his head. “This seems to be the most popular vehicle in the neighborhood where this sorcerer lives. Are you ready?”

  Instead of answering, I turned into Jailbait Me.

  Thao laughed. “Ian had told me you would make a remarkable transformation, but I remained skeptical. Very impressive. What’s your cover story?”

  I showed him a clipboard with a fake affidavit form Gracie had made for me. “I’m collecting signatures for a ballot initiative to prohibit deer hunting in Salinas County.”

  Thao rolled his eyes. “Sit in the backseat. You’ll have more room there and privacy to meditate. Raphael has already claimed the front passenger seat.”

  I hopped in and said hello to the healer. Then I let Thao worry about getting us to the right place. While he drove, I practiced changing the size of my staff a dozen times to the big event. In that way, this was similar to being a gladiator.

  After I got as comfortable as I could in the back, I mediated to develop a calm focus.

  When we got near Santa Cruz, Thao said, “The target is Jimmy Caruso. He grows recreational marijuana for a living, which is legal in California, but the majority of his product seems to find its way to other states. I suppose he hasn’t left the area because he’d have to leave behind his growing facilities. They’re worth a fortune.”

  I didn’t care what he did for a living. Any sorcerer was trouble and had to go. “What’s he look like?”

  “He’s five-ten and weighs two hundred pounds. His hair was dark brown and long. He wears one eyebrow ring. A marijuana leaf is tattooed on the back of his left hand.”

  “By the way,” Raphael said with a grin, “Dahn told me his favorite gladiator is Esmeralda, not you.”

  Now I really despised Jimmy. Esmeralda was a sleazy slut who’d used a sharpened fingernail to slice open my nose four months ago. Blood covered my face before I put that shithead down for good.”

  “Does he own slaves?” I asked.

  “Seven workers in his grow operations and two house slaves,” Dahn said.

  “I’ll let each of them take a shot at their Jimmy when I’m through with him.”

  Chapter 21

  Home of James Caruso, Santa Cruz, California

  JAILBAIT ME STOOD on Jimmy’s front porch. To give off the right nonchalant air, I twisted a lock of my platinum blonde hair around one finger, and I plastered an obviously fake smile on my face. Then I punched the doorbell.

  Jimmy unlocked three deadbolts in rapid succession and opened the door. He was standing in a bathrobe with bare feet. His long hair was disheveled, and his eyes were red. I would’ve sworn Jimmy had sampled his product hard the night before.

  “What’s up?” His voice was groggy, like I’d just woken him up.

  “Hi, I’m Sheila Matthews, I’m collecting signatures for a petition to save the deer.”

  He looked at me with his he
ad cocked sideways for a moment as though he was trying to understand what I’d said. Right before I repeated my little spiel, he shrugged and waved me in.

  When I stepped inside, I carefully closed the door behind me. No need to make it easy for him to bolt.

  He shuffled away from me looking for something. So much for Ian’s theory that guys couldn’t wait to get me out of my pants. He headed for the coffee table in the living room and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

  After he’d fired up, he took a deep drag. “What’s this about again?”

  I transformed into Real Me, grabbed my shrunken staff from my waistband in the back, and restored it to full size. “I challenge you for magical power!”

  For a couple of precious seconds, stared at the frozen me with his eyes wide open. Then he dashed away. I formed a ward while waiting to unfreeze.

  I thought he’d turned tail, but before I unfroze he ran back to me holding a long black staff. “You bitch! Fuck you for barging in here at the crack of dawn.”

  He pointed the staff at me, and the buzzing started in my ears.

  Within a second, he fired a stunning spell at me.

  My ward crackled and snapped under the force of his power. Yeah, he was really pissed.

  To give myself some extra protection, I stood behind a tall wingback chair that was piled high with newspapers. He immediately shot a fireball at me, but his aim was a little off. It hit the top of the chair and set it on fire.

  Most attack spells can’t affect non-magical things, but the fireball was different, and he should’ve known that. So, Jimmy wasn’t at his best. That was good for me. I never seemed to get easy wins anymore.

  While part of me stayed calm to maintain my ward, I fired back with one of the new Holar spells I’d learned. To keep from giving him warning, I conjured my spell silently and pointed my staff at him. Holarthon, elbo choque.

  He hadn’t given me any great reason to be angry, so my red lightning bolt wouldn’t win any awards. Still, it hit him square on the forehead. The idiot was too groggy to have remembered to protect himself.

  Unfortunately, my spell didn’t knock him down. The asshole came at me, pointing his staff like a sword.

  With incredible speed, he got behind me. A burning pain erupted between my shoulder blades.

  The guy had some serious moves. His speed distracted me, and my barrier had weakened so his fireball had burned into my skin.

  I dropped to the carpet, lying on my back, squirming to smother the fire. Oh, it hurt. Nothing else mattered.

  He took advantage, stomping on my face. Something broke inside my skull, shooting a stabbing pain through my head.

  Despite that, I scrambled to my feet, grabbed my staff from where I’d dropped it, and ran into the kitchen. Time to regroup.

  He chased after me, still pointing his staff.

  I wasn’t used to fighting with mine. Time to see what it could do with a stunning spell. Holarthon, elbo assomme.

  A magical pulse caught him in the chest, hurling him backwards. He roared in pain.

  Lucinda definitely knew her stuff. The spell was so strong the recoil jolted me backwards a few feet.

  Jimmy writhed on the floor, screaming, “Bitch!” Over and over, he repeated that single word.

  Time to end this. I ran over toward him and took a lesson out of his playbook. With my right foot, I stomped on the side of his head.

  He went limp, and the buzzing in my ears stopped.

  While he was out cold, I quietly savored the win. They just never came easy anymore, despite what I’d first thought.

  After a moment, he began to come around.

  I yelled, “SHAZAM! I claim the spoils of victory.”

  His power rushed into me in a warm glow. That delicious glow never got old.

  Jimmy moaned on the floor. Before I went to get the healer, I said, “Don’t tell anybody about this fight.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I left him there as I exited the house to bring in Thao and Raphael.

  They both smiled at me like they knew all along that I’d win. Nobody seemed to understand, except probably other fighters, how easy it would be to lose a battle I was supposed to win. Luck played such a big role in this work.

  First thing, Raphael healed the burn on my back and the stinging around my cheekbones. That bastard Jimmy had cracked my skull. He didn’t ask how I’d gotten hurt, and I didn’t volunteer.

  After he put me back to right, Thao and Raphael followed me indoors, and Thao called Lee. They coordinated on the logistics of getting processed while Raphael healed Jimmy.

  After he was in shape to talk again, I asked Jimmy, “Where your slaves?”

  “Everyone’s at a warehouse a few miles from here, packaging a big shipment.”

  From this point forward, Lee and Thao operated like a well-oiled machine. Thao took me to the warehouse where I found Jimmy’s slaves packaging pot. When I freed them, they hugged me, and I spent a few minutes hearing where they hoped to go next.

  Lee arrived in a large van. He stayed with Thao to process the house and its valuables. I drove the van back to Monterey with Raphael, Jimmy, and all his slaves.

  Ian met me at the front portico. “How’d it go?” he asked. I pulled him aside and told him the full story. I couldn’t deceive my master.

  When I finished, he said, “Sounds like par for the course. I run into glitches and surprises all the time. Winners always find a way to overcome problems, Moira, and you keep proving you’re a winner.”

  My heart swelled with pride or appreciation or something. No one had showed that kind of confidence in me since I’d left my family.

  The clan threw a party for me. My friends showed up and clapped and cheered. My enemies, including all the women who wished Philippe was screwing their brains out instead of mine, found other things to do. So, we were all happy in our own way.

  -o-o-o-

  Thursday, February 18th

  FOR THE NEXT week, I kept training hard, and I took out one more sorcerer in Santa Cruz. That fight was less eventful, even though he was more powerful than Jimmy. It was just that one lucky break, or an unlucky one, could turn the tide of a battle that seemed won or lost.

  That evening, Ian took the Garda and Christina to Point Lobos State Natural Reserve because a gale-force wind was blowing from the west. Massive waves crashed against the headlands in the park, and he was convinced the raging water produced oodles of magic.

  For Ian, it seemed to work, and the others claimed it helped them, too.

  As for me? I just got soaked to the bones again, and damn, that ocean water was cold. I obviously wasn’t going to connect with Mother Nature or Wakonda, his Great Mystery Spirit, anytime soon. I’d have to find my own way.

  -o-o-o-

  Friday, February 19th

  AT MY REQUEST, Danh began to investigate Eichmann. I started preparing myself mentally for the coming battle royal. All the while, I continued my routine of fighting practice and physical training.

  That afternoon, our regular group ran like the wind through the streets of Monterey and along the coastal trail in Pacific Grove. This was our shorter run, so Ian practically sprinted at the lead. Everything seemed normal as we passed an outdoor café. Thankfully, I’d finally got Inconspicuous Me into good enough shape to stay right behind my prince.

  When we were a block past the café, he whispered, “We’ve got trouble. Did you notice the beefy guy back there?”

  We paused to allow traffic to cross in front of us. I replied, “At the café? The one with a tattoo on his neck?”

  We continued running. “Yep,” Ian said, “he’s definitely a sorcerer.”

  I was about to ask him how he knew, but he pressed a finger to his lips. “How do you want to handle him? I know you hate public confrontations.”

  “On the way back, or when we next see him again, I’m taking him out. No dark magician is waltzing around my pa
rt of the state like he belongs here.”

  As usual, Lazarus was flying overhead. When our group got to the turnaround point for our run, the eagle dropped near us. Ian disappeared.

  I’d seen that before, when Ian had shared the eagle’s mind. A few minutes later, Lazarus returned, and Ian popped out of thin air.

  “Still there,” he muttered.

  Our group headed back. Ian acted normal, but I knew some confrontation was coming.

  Before we got to the café, Ian said to our group, “We go by, like before, and I’ll take care of him.”

  He didn’t leave me wondering for long about how he’d do that. We ran by the café again, with Philippe and me right behind the boss. When Ian got as near the sorcerer as he could, he pointed his right index finger at the guy.

  No challenge. Instead, a white-hot fireball erupted from Ian’s outstretched finger and shot straight at the sorcerer’s right hand where it rested on the metal table. Our prince obviously wasn’t interested in the sorcerer’s power.

  When the fireball reached its target, it acted like it remained stuck to the sorcerer’s hand as he screamed in pain and he waved his arm around wildly. Try as he could, he didn’t shake off the white-hot flames. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.

  None of the other people sitting outside the café noticed.

  The sorcerer fell out of his chair and rolled on the ground, trying to put out the flames. Nothing worked. His screams intensified.

  Ian walked over to him and stood calmly as the dark magician thrashed at his feet.

  “I give up! Please stop!”

  That would’ve ended a challenge fight, but the incineration of the man’s hand continued.

  All the while, a dozen people ate and drank around him, not realizing his suffering.

  After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a couple of minutes, the flames went out, leaving only a charred stump where his hand had been.

  Ian dialed his phone and spoke to someone for a moment before hanging up. Then he motioned for the rest of us to come and sit at the café. He ordered a couple bottles of wine, but I barely tasted my glass. We both hated sorcerers, but this was pure torture. Ian had to have a reason.